Miss you. Miss your wise, wiry, smooth fingers touching and moving down embroidered fabric, opening your mouth to talk about distant lands and people I’ve never met. You looked at me with such seriousness; I almost could have laughed but didn’t dare.
Dear Miss Lavender, If you could have only felt the crackle of yellow and orange and red cornflakes beneath your feet as I did today. The skies have turned icy silver and blue and the mornings come with that subtle nip of cold that autumn brings. Last week was the beginning of autumn, as formalContinue reading “Dear Miss Lavender, Ltr. 3”
Slowly, slowly Hesitant and small Fumbling with keys and mouths to be pried open Small hearts and big eyes Perfumed shoulders that make your leather jacket smell like peonies
these first-rate mornings. pictures of what heaven must be. but only a glimpse. like looking back at our own image in windows or in the body of a car a distortion a fantasy our minds uncomprehending. as usual.
Dear Miss Lavender, I’ve just come back inside after an evening meander. The sun is bloodshot; red and angry as it reflects the wildfires it sees gathering across the prairie lands. The rest of the sky is calm and hazy and silver. Its telling a story, I think, and we can only see one pageContinue reading “Dear Miss Lavender, Ltr. 2”
Dear Miss Lavender, It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood today. You will ask why, I know, for you are inquisitive, like all of us ought to be. It was beautiful because the sun rose, crisp and new from underneath its covers. It graced the sky with a message of lilac and petunia hope.Continue reading “Dear Miss Lavender, Ltr. 1”
a scalding fever of hope appears strong like coffee in the hand of an early morning sipper drink freely and let down slowly
what is this thing I call faith? what does it ask from me? what does it cost me?
the sun-bronzed, curly-haired boy sits slumped against the neck of his chair and nods at me as I pass in my silver car. I am not driving one of the large trucks charting boats into the park and thus, he has no reason for stopping me. Parked parallel to him sits a red mini vanContinue reading “dancing angels”
what will you do with us now? at one time we looked through stained glass. but here we are: smelling the rhododendron on the other side of a broken windshield. where did it all go?